In the Dark
by A Girl In NYC
Summary: Even as I ran from him in the dark, he still stole my time and mind. Fortis/OC
1. In the Dark

**In The Dark  
**"In Time", Fortis/OC  
**Part 1**

I _never_ ran so fast in my life.

The night street was lit up with street lights on either side, creating a reddish reflection in the pavement from the rain a few hours earlier. The night air was a little cold, so when I ran, my breath was visible. I sprinted in high heels, the elegant shoe wearing me down and slowing me down.

I felt headlights on myself and the revving of the engine; I swirled my head to look around my shoulder. I saw the expensive, old-fashioned car right on my tail.

My eyes widened in the bright spotlights.

The car beeped loudly at me, revving it's engine and a frightening way. I swirled back around and ran so fast I wondered how I hadn't collapsed right where I stood. Tears spilled from the sides of my eyes, streaking black mascara with it. I bit my lip, my dirty blond hair whipping behind me as I ran in the cold wind of the night. A dead end was coming up, the chain link fence standing before me.

I felt my ankles ready to give away, the heels weighing too harsh on my feet.

I fell with a gasp, groaning with the pain of the cuts and gashes on my knees from the hit from the pavement. I inhaled sharply, gasping in sobs as tears streaked down my cheeks, mascara smeared under my eyes. I quickly backed up slowly against the chain link fence that was behind me. I back-climbed it, attempting to back up against the fence quickly, pressing my body as hard as possible against it.

While I attempted to back up against the fence, the car came to screeching halt. The spotlights stayed on, the car stalling as the doors flung open and four men piled out. They were all twenty-five, of course, frozen at the age like everyone else. They were well dressed mobsters; fedoras, suit vests, suspenders. They were, in reality, creeps in the night.

The Minutemen.

"No, please. _Please_ don't." I begged.

The Minutemen came at me in all directions. They approached me in the dark, the bright spotlight illuminating my mascara-stained face and wide, panicked eyes. They smirked, gathering to me and two of them grabbing either arm, dragging me off the fence. I knew walking home from a party alone wasn't a good choice.

"Please, _please_!" I said lowly, panickly looking up at these men.

"Oh, Taylor," A Minuteman pressed his lips to my ear, "Fortis has been running after you for a while. You know he's been after you. You aren't going _anywhere_."

I felt the tears streak down, touching my lips. My eyes were wildly looking at these men as they hauled me away, legitamentally dragging me to their old-fashioned, expensive car. My heels made a screeching noise as the Minutemen dragged me, the heels scraping against the pavement.

"Let me go, _please_!" My stammers turned into yells, and my yells progressed into screaming.

The worst part was that people could hear me, but nobody dared to intervene with the Minutemen. There was no chance of being rescued or saved. People in apartments in Dayton at night were terrified of the Minutemen; and I had made the mistake of being out late when they were on the prowl. The men threw me into the car. I screamed, kicking and screaming, begging to let me go. One Minuteman and another exchanged looks, and nodded. He took his gun, and pistol-whipped me.

And, in the blink of an eye, I blacked out.

* * *

My head spun and my vision was blurry; my head throbbed horribly, and I felt sick. I blinked a few times, when finally my vision cleared. I was in a chair in a reasonably expensive-looking and attractive hotel room. I looked around and saw Minutemen surrounded me and the chair and table I sat at. My head swayed dizzily.

My eyes were smudged with mascara, my hair was lank, and my dress was slightly ripped. My ankles hurt from running away from the Minutemen so quickly. I slumped against the chair, hesitantly looking up to meet the man I'd avoided for a while now.

He stood across from me, standing behind the chair, hands on it, smugly looking at me.

His blond hair was a little slicked back, he sported stubble on his masculine jawline. He wore expensive clothes like his mobster friends; his blue eyes were animalistic. He was forty-nine years older biologically than myself, yet he pursued me. He was 75, I was 26. He wanted my time, my life, my everything. I attempted to avoid him, to block him out. But I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried.

My chest tightened when our eyes met.

Fortis.

"Get lost." He snapped in a low voice at his men, who instantly did as they were told, scramming out of the hotel room, leaving the two of us alone. He picked up a flute of champagne off of the table beside me, making his way to me. He took a sip, set it down beside me, and smirked, looking down at me.

"Taylor...always like her father, attempting to in resist my attempts of stealing your time..."

He breathed in, leaning down, pressing his lips to my ear quietly. I felt his hot breath on my neck, and I felt myself trembling that he was so close to me. His British accent wrapped itsef around my name and refused to let it go. It sounded like _Tayla_ rather than _Taylor_ when he muttered it. He had me in his clutch, and their was no way out.

"I've been running after you for a long time. And I _don't_ like wasting _my_ time."

He hissed, pressing his lips to my cheek. I trembled and jerked away from him, shunning him and turning my face away, which didn't please him. He grabbed hold of my chin and yanked it towards him, making me look at him. I trembled harder in his grasp, and I grabbed his wrist which held my chin. Fresh tears poured down my face, hitting his hand. I gasped in a sob. When I reached up to hold his wrist, his eye caught my right forearm, where my time ticked in neon green.

00:00:4:45:9:00

4 years, forty-five minutes, nine seconds.

"Why do you want me?" I gasped, attempting to plead with the man who was not only a notorious killer and mobster, but my enemy.

He brushed a strand of dirty blond hair out my face mockingly.

He pursued me countless times. Every minute I looked around my shoulder, wondering when he'd be on my tail next. This time, I let my guard down, and he took advantage of that.

Fortis had known my father. He stole his time, except for the time he left for me; 5 years. I'd used one year, and had 4 left. Fortis had pursued me for it, but I always found a way out. Not this time. I wasn't careful enough. Now, I could be giving all this time to him and lose all my time. I trembled.

"Taylor." He answered, pressing his nose against mine, and muttered smugly, looking straight into my eyes, "You have time that I _want_, love." He let go of my chin, instead his fingers wandered to my right forearm, tracing the numbers of the ticking clock.

"You're a selfish asshole." I snapped in a mutter, never breaking eye contact.

He laughed lightly at my refusal to give in to him, his eyes locking on mine. His lips instantly pressed against mine, and I felt a jolt of shock and surprise when he did so. I gasped when he let go, and looked at him. My lip trembled, knowing there was no way out here, no matter if I insulted him or got him angry. No Timekeepers could help me now, he had me.

"It's not your time to take." I grumbled, "It's _mine_."

"See...you _don't_ understand, darling." Fortis said, laughing lightly as if I didn't understand, brushing a strand of blond hair out of my eyes. "All time is rightfully mine."

"_Please_...please, don't kill me, Fortis." I said quietly.

He looked at me darkly.

"What are you going to do?" I asked in a low voice. He smirked, laughing. I noticed then his pistol in his right hand, and his ticking green clock, the numbers slowly decreasing.

He grinned mischeviously.

"Love, I'm goin' to take you..._and_ your time."


	2. He's A Monster

**In The Dark  
**"In Time", Fortis/OC  
**Part 2**

He raked his blond hair back.

Fortis looked at me darkly, his dark brown eyes so frightening that I felt my heart beat so quickly. It felt like my heart was throbbing, hitting my ribcage with a _thump_. His eyes never left my own whilst he put a rough hand on my leg, creeping up to the hem of my short, lightly ripped black cocktail dress. He gently pulled on the hem of my dress, and began creeping beyond it. I jolted a little in my seat.

I felt tears stream down my cheeks, grabbing my mascara and eyeliner with them. I cringed away from him; his hand slipped off my leg.

"Get your _hands_ right off of me," I said in a gasp, trembling.

His dark eyes looked smug, which matched his smug smile. I looked away from him, looking straight. I felt his eyes stare into the side of my skull; his breath became hot on my neck, his lips pressing against my ear sensually.

"Stop _lying_, love. Taylor, if you don't want me to take your lovely time away from you, let me at least take _something_ from you..." His British accent whispered in my eardrum, his lips pressed to my ear.

His fingers grabbed my chin, yanking me to look deep in his eyes. My tears streaked down my cheeks quicker, the wet tears flowing over Fortis's fingers as he clutched my chin in his grasp. His other hand fingered the neon clock on my forearm.

00:00:4:43:9:00

4 years, forty-three minutes, nine seconds.

I gasped, trembling violently. Fortis clutched my body firmly. "Shh, shh." He whispered in my ear, still fingering the ever-ticking clock on my arm.

I knew there was only way out of his clutch.

I looked at him straight in the eyes and looked at him hopelessly, our noses brushing we were so close. With my other hand, I began unhitching a the small handgun I kept attached to my thigh in a black holster, hidden by the black cocktail dress. Fortis didn't see the pistol until I pressed it to his chest; I pulled the handle back with a _click_.

A single bullet.

He glared at me coldly, saying lowly with his Brit accent, "You sly little..."

"If I ever see you again, and I have this gun in my hand...you'll sleep in hell." I said quietly, cutting him off. I was still trembling, the tears streaking down my cheeks. His cold, infuriated eyes burned a hole in my skin.

I glared at him, he slowly letting me up from his grasp. I backed myself up, holding the pistol to him, and I knew the window was open behind me. The fire escape was there; I could make it. Fortis stood up quickly when I was a few feet away; my sight didn't leave his until I quickly slinked out the window.

I ran so quickly off the fire escape.

"_Shit_! Get her!"

Fortis's yell to his Minutemen in the dark night was so excruciatingly loud that both Dayton and New Greenwich must have heard it.

I ran so quickly, my heels off. My bare feet felt the icy cold, rain-splattered asphalt beneath me. The streetlights faintly illuminated the night. I whiped my tears quickly before they blocked my vision; my light blond hair and cocktail dress whipped behind me while I ran.

I ran in the quiet streets, not a soul in the night but myself.

I heard commotion from the Minutemen; their high-class car was revving it's engine. I looked behind me while I ran; the car's headlights brightened on my tear-stained face.

I gasped, running faster than ever.

That's when I heard my pistol fall to the ground. The car was right behind me; no going back. I ran, regretting leaving my only means of protection behind.

I turned right into an alleyway; the entrance to a hole-in-the-wall night club stood against the left brick wall. The club was thumping with intensely loud music on the outside. The car turned into the alleyway, pulling up as I stormed into the club.

* * *

The night club was overly populated with people; so many on the dance floor. Strobe lights illuminated the overly dark room, and the people danced fast. It was hard to see, the strobe lights flashing, the people passing by. I ran through the crowd of people; it was like a rave.

I began to feel nauseated from running.

The heat of the club, the throbbing music, the people. Everything began to blur together. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get away from Fortis. I needed to leave.

I felt a cold hand grab me from behind, and the barrell of a pistol to my neck.

I jolted in surprise.

Fortis pressed me up against him from behind; then turning me around roughly, cupping my chin with his hand. He cupped my chin in his right hand, pressed my own pistol to my neck with his left.

"You said if you ever saw me again and this gun was loaded, that I'd sleep in hell. Oh, how the tables have turned, love. _How the tables have turned_." He said degradingly, brushing his lips to mine.

The strobe lights and darkness flashed over his face, darking his expression of revenge and lust.

I remained silent, watching him.

He leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to mine. I did not resist in fear of my own pistol. He pushed his way to my tongue, and deepened the kiss. He let go after a few seconds.

"Taylor, you are a smart girl." He smirked mockingly, titling his head and looking directly into my eyes, "A smart girl who makes _idiotic_ choices."

I heard the handle of the gun be pulled back.

I jumped a little.

In a club with so many people, nobody noticed him or what he was doing. He looked darkly at me, his eyes staring right into me. I bit my lip and the tears didn't stop; but I refused to sob.

"Don't kill me, Fortis." I murmured, looking straight into his eyes.

He smirked smugly, leaning in and whispering into my ear, his lips pressed to it, "Give me a _reason_, Taylor."

"I will work for you." I replied quietly.

A deep flash or revenge and violence flashed in his eyes, but resulted in a smug smile in him. Fortis was right. I was a smart girl who made idiotic choices.

And instantly I knew it was the most idiotic choice I would ever make.

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	3. Bad Romances

**In The Dark  
**"In Time", Fortis/OC  
**Part 3**

Fortis's blue eyes watched me intensely in the rearview mirror.

I sat in between two Minutemen as the expensive Bentley drove in the night through the streets of Dayton. I bit my lip and sighed quietly. I belonged to Fortis now. In exchange for him not taking my time, I now worked for him-the only woman in his bloodthirtsty gang. They were constantly on the move in their expensive cars, killing people and stealing, shooting and being the bastards they were. Fortis's men said barely anything to me. I actually wondered if he told them to not talk to me.

This was my first night under Fortis's control.

My black-painted nails dug into the leather seats, nervous and agitated.

My eyes met his in the rearview mirror and glared back at him. I saw a hint of a smug smile tug at the side of his mouth, but disappear when he spotted a few guys on the side of the dark street corner.

The Bentley screeched to a halt, and instantly the Minutemen were out of the car, slamming the car doors. I scrambled after them, closely following Fortis's coat tails.

I hated his guts, and now I was required to do whatever he demanded. Either that, or a pistol's bullet to my head and my time taken away. Now I was forced to do the same thing I hated him for to other innocent people.

I was his prisoner.

Fortis lined the men up, raking his blond hair back, while the rest of the Minutemen quickly raised their guns and pointed their weapons to the line of men. The line of men were trembling in fear, knowing the Minutemen as the notorious and violent killers, and noticing Fortis as the infamous leader who would kill anyone for time. The mens' faces were terrifed as Fortis approached the men, who stood up against the chain-link fence outside a junky store in the corner of Dayton, in a dark back alley. The only illumination in the dark night was the street lights.

Fortis quickly snagged my arm, dragging me from hiding near him, and roughly bringing me next to him. His firm grasp was so tight and painful that I felt like his fingers would leave imprints on my upper arm. He held me, giving my arm a quick shake.

"Now watch, Taylor. Watch how this is done." He demanded, his accent harsh.

My lip quivered, but I nevertheless nodded slowly. He released me and glared at the men who were tembling against the fence. He eyed them up and down, ran a hand through his blonde hair, and cleared his throat, a gun in his right hand.

"You _know_ who I want. One of you must have seen Will Salas and Slyvia Weis." Fortis snarled "And I want to know now. If I don't get some answers _right now_, you're going to lose some time. Because I don't seriously think that this simple, poor nitwit of a man could aquire _seven years_!"

He raised his voice to a yell, grabbing the arm of a terrifed looking man, the neon green clock on his arm ticking. Nevertheless, Fortis was right. The man had seven years on his clock. Slyvia and Will had broken into the Time Banks and given away free time. They'd been around, recently.

I was rooting for them. I didn't want them caught.

And Fortis was being a complete ass to these poor, terrified men. I looked at them sympathetically, wanting desperately to apologize to them for Fortis's bloodthirsty ways and just jump back in the car.

The men didn't answer, each of them awaiting another to stand up and say something. No one ever did.

Fortis looked annoyed, and mockingly put a hand to his ear, as if he was trying to listen to something. He rolled his eyes, and sighed. "I don't hear anything." He said, and then nodded to one of the Minutemen, "Adam, take care of it."

He motioned his gun to the man who's arm he'd grabbed, who looked more scared than ever now. Fortis scratched his gun against his left temple boredly.

Adam, a medium-height, attractive, middle-aged Minuteman broke away from our side and to the poor man against the fence, and grabbed his arm in position to transfer time. The man trembled, clearing panicking and freaking out.

"No, _please_! I don't know anything! No, stop. I'm _begging_ you!" The man pleaded.

I watched Adam rapidly take this man's time from him, and I knew I shouldn't be watching this happen and just not do anything. That had been my position only a few nights previous; Fortis had been ready to take all my time away from him.

"Fortis, stop it." I said, looking at him pleadingly, "He said he doesn't know anything. Leave him alone! You're killing him. _Stop it_!"

Fortis just smirked at me.

I rushed by him and yanked Adam away from him, breaking the connection for the time transfer. Adam glared at me and Fortis yelled, "_What the hell are you doing_?"

The man had a minute left on his clock, the neon green clock ticking down to mere seconds. Without thinking, I clashed my hand with his, my time sweeping to him. Fortis instantly yanked me by my neck, his hand clutched around the back of my neck.

The man had three days worth on his arm. And now Fortis would either beat me senseless or shoot me or do whatever Fortis does.

"Thank you." The man said gratefully to me, smiling through a few tears, "_Thank you so much_."

I nodded to him, but when I looked to Fortis, his eyes were so angry, infuriated, hateful...I knew that when we got back to the hotel were they stayed, I would be in for it. I was in deep trouble, and I did it to save another. Therefore, I suppose it was worth it.

* * *

Fortis's hand clutched the back of neck so roughly and tightly that I felt like I was being strangled. I tried to pry his hands off of my flesh, as his nails dug into my bare skin. He opened the door to his room in the hotel with a yank, and threw me onto the bed, tossing me like a ragdoll. The hotel was expensive looking, and his hotel room was beautiful. He threw off his jacket, revealing a white dress shirt and suspenders.

I sat up on the bed, readying myself for a slap, punch, or kick. My neck was throbbing from his grasp, knowing that his fingerprints would become bruises. He glared at me long and hard, his blue eyes burning holes into my skin. I looked back at him, not breaking eye contact. He raked a hand in his hair and sighed.

He looked away a bit, opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. With a quick movement, he smacked my face, on my right cheek.

I flinched. The slap stung, the pain electrifying my veins and a shock factor tingling my body. I didn't let him see me sweat. I clutched my right cheek and glared up at him. I refused to cry in front of that bastard.

"Are you _mad_?" He began, "Are you mentally stable? While we're attempting to get infomation out of people and want to show how powerful we are, you decide to be fucking charitable and _give away some of your own time_?"

"You were killing him for no reason." I choked out.

"Kill or be killed, darling. That's the way it is now. Take time or make time. I prefer to take." He hissed.

"You're a coward, and you steal from others to gain for yourself!" I snapped back at him, "You're a arrogant, shitless bastard."

"Insult me all you like, love. Guess what? You don't get to call the shots." He roared, snapping forward and cupping my chin and giving me a little shake, "You have no dominance, no control here. You work for me now. Now, unless you want your time taken away from you or a bullet in your head, you'll never, ever go against what I say again. Do not ever give away your time again. You understand me, Taylor?"

His nose was pressed against mine. His hot breath was on my lips, and I felt tears creeping up behind my eyes. Nevertheless, I kept up the unaffected poker face. I remained silent.

"_Do you understand_?" His British accent remained cruel on the words.

"_Yes_." I mumbled, glaring up at him. He looked at me for what felt like a while, those blue eyes baring into me intensely. He released my chin, huffed at me and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut, so loud that it caused a picture on the wall of the hotel room to come crashing down.

I was alone in Fortis's hotel room, sitting on the bed, my cheek throbbing. The rain hit the window, the nighttime outside impossible to see anything out the window. I felt so alone, knowing there was no way out of this.

"You _care_ that I gave my time away." I murmured even after he left, "And _that's_ why you're mad."

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	4. Russian Roulette

**In The Dark  
**"In Time", Fortis/OC  
**Part 4**

"Come _on_, boys. You can't seriously be that afraid to lose."

Fortis said smugly, looking at his men, sitting at the round poker table in the Fortis's hotel room. Each Minuteman looked hesitant or freaked out to go up against Fortis in the game of gambling your time via arm wrestling. He ran a hand in his blond hair.

I walked into the hotel room, the Minutemen turning to look at me. Fortis looked at me slyly, a smug smirk residently on his handsome face.

"I'll play." I said, looking at him in seriousness, my eyes not breaking contact with his. His Minutemen looked at me like I was out of my mind. Fortis lightly grinned, and then looked at his men with a cruel expression on his face, "Get the hell out."

The men did what they were ordered and quickly left the hotel room. Cigarettes from some of the Minutemen sat on the ashtrays on the poker table, smoldering smoke dancing in the air in curls.

Fortis sat in his chair opposite me, watching me as I sat down. He had a glass of Scotch in his hand. He wore a collared shirt with suspenders, his sleeves rolled up. His right arm had a patterened tattoo running up the arm.

"_You_ want to play _me_, love?" He scoffed, "You want to gamble your time when my own men won't?" He said this while he adjusted his sleeve, readying himself for the game. "I'm willing." I said, not looking away from him.

"Are you sure you don't want to play strip-poker instead, Taylor?"

He asked, with a tilt of his head and a spiteful smirk on his face, his foot touching mine underneath the table. I glared at him, attempting to keep my infuriation in. I was still mad at him for slapping me so hard the other night, but I was beginning to let it go. It was his nature and instinct; cold-hearted and cruel. This was part of my plan, to get him to trust me. I arched an eyebrow at him, "I'll play strip poker if I lose. Deal?"

"Whatever you say, darling."

His accent laced his words, extending his arm that had the tattoo on it. He reached out his hand across the table to me, asking for my hand. I looked at him, his face serious. I hesitantly reached out my arm, putting my hand in his muscular one. He watched me, his eyes baring into me, burning holes in my skin. He held my hand in his. I exhaled, my breathing uneven.

"Take a breath, calm yourself. When you play, there's not much time to think. You have to focus. Taylor, look at me. Look at your opponent." He instructed, his voice calm and even, his eyes not leaving mine. I nodded, re-gripping my hand in his. I looked at him as he began to tilt my arm in rotation.

My heart was beating so quick and loud, I was suspicious that he could hear it. It felt like my heart was banging up against my ribcage.

He kept looking at me, and just then I had a terrifying thought; because he was here, it means he never lost before. I was horrified at the realization.

Fortis rotated my wrist so we were in formation. I watched as he drained me of my time, taking one year, two years, three years, four. In a matter of seconds, I was down to two days.

Terrified, I quickly swapped our arms so I was on top, and stealing back my time. The game went back and forth for at least twenty minutes. I tried to keep him down, but he was superior. He flipped my arm back over again, and I was down from five years to a minute. I watched the neon green clock ticking down the seconds.

It was then I realized he'd been teaching me to play, and to defend myself, if I ever had to play for my time. He was teaching me, helping me. For once, Fortis was actually doing something to help me. I was surprised, but I didn't say anything about it.

"_Never_ watch your clock." He said, flipping my arm back over, returning my time, while I watched him in shock at how quick he was, "That's the worst move you can make. And, I'm afraid you, uh, _lost_, love."

I felt my face flush.

"Strip-poker's always been a favorite of mine, Taylor." He said slyly, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his collared shirt, loosening up. He straightened up, and kept giving me a smartass grin. I glared at him, but letting myself smile a little, "You are such an ass. You knew you'd win."

"That was the plan." He winked at me.

We began playing, the night outside of Dayton getting darker as the clock read 12:45. I bit my lip, looking at my cards. They really were awful cards, but I set them down on the table. Ironically enough, nevertheless, mine were better than Fortis's. He arched an eyebrow at me, "Touche, Taylor. Touche."

He watched me with a satisfied smile as he shrugged off his shirt, then running a hand in his hair. I smiled back at him pridefully, "And you said strip-poker's your favorite, Fortis. Yet you're losing."

"Not for long," He retorted, smacking down his next set, a Royal Flush. I glared at him, setting my average cards down. I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at the sides of my mouth. He looked at me, gesturing at me, "Come now, love. Off."

My cheeks felt hot and pink.

I let my black cocktail dress fall to the floor, now in a black bra, panties, and fishnets. It wasn't the best night to wear a dress, but I wouldn't let him win any further. I looked at him, and he set down his cards, "You know, Taylor...once you stop being so rebellious, you will be a good addition to our little group."

"I don't kill people, or take their time," I said, "I tend to avoid that."

He stood up, walking over to me. He stood above me, looking down at me and grasping my chin in his hand, physically forcing me to stand up by pulling me up. I gasped quietly, but didn't break eye contact with Fortis.

He pressed his lips to my cheek, his breath hot on my neck. I swallowed hard, my heart beating faster. My life was in this killer's hands, and in any moment he could kill me. But he wasn't. He pressed his lips to my mouth, gently biting my top lip. I was going to protest, but he broke away within seconds.

His fingers lingered on the brim of my underwear, but he brought it up to put a strand of blond hair behind my ear.

"I'm not what you think I am." I hissed at him, my chin still locked in his grip, "You're an idiot if you think I'll kill for you."

"Come off it. You've got it in you. That's the only reason you're standing here. The reason I'm not robbing you of ever second you have. You put a damn gun to my chest. You would've pulled the trigger. Don't I remember what I told you? Kill or be killed, waste time or take time. It's simple and pretty damn obvious. You have animalistic tendencies, Taylor." He snapped.

He ripped his hand off my chin, glaring at me, and leaving the room.

"So do you." I said quietly, as he left me alone again.

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End file.
